Introductions
by Slushipping
Summary: Christophe meets Rebecca's parents for the first time at a family lunch at the Cotswolds' residence. Of course, he doesn't have a care in the world of what they think of him. ChristophexRebecca. Rebole.


**Happy belated birthday to one of my besties... you know who you are! ;) a little Rebole fluff never hurt anybody!**

_**Disclaimer: I do not own South Park! It rightfully belongs to Trey&Matt!**_

* * *

><p><span>Introductions<span>

Family luncheons were unusually different for someone like Christophe de Lorne. On a daily basis he would come home from school to find his mother slaved over the hot stove, attempting to cook something without blowing it up in a pile of smoke. Conversation was very diminutive when they were beside themselves, regularly face to face at the little round table against the dining wall, silverware screeching on dinner plates. He would wear his usual attire and a frowzy face with sleep-deprived shadows underneath his eyes, eyes that would glare at his _beech of a mozer_.

However, Rebecca Cotswolds' family was… very peculiar to say at least.

You could easily visualize them as the average Christian family who would attend church every Sunday and leave their children to rot away to the infamous lectures of Bible Study. Christophe, though, had to swallow a bit of pride and give them a little credit.

At least they weren't the typical homeschooling family that would have a dozen kids plus more like the unforgivable and homophobic Duggars. Rebecca was allowed to hold hands and share sweet little kisses, and the banshees in _that _family? God forbid them from the innocence of shoulder pats and loving embraces of hormonal men. Maybe the Big Guy had something diabolical in plan, like losing a game of checkers to Satan who would gladly toss a fireball into Michelle Duggar's vagina, where it could explode from the inside out.

Rebecca's older brother Mark had his first experience in public school over two years ago. He had fallen in love the way the children socially interacted, calling one another "gaywad" on the playground without teacher supervision. He loved how Mr. Garrison rambled on about different celebrities during a history lesson, or whenever Eric Cartman and Kyle Broflovski had a mouth-brawlout in the hallway for everyone to see.

It was pure magic, it was passion, and Mark adored every second, much to his parents' demise.

In yet, they'd finally learned how to accept it and move on, while little Rebecca decided to resume with her homeschool studies until her freshman year of high school.

The silence between the family and unfamiliar stranger had taken its toll for far too long. It was Mark who broke it after taking a sip of his ice-water and examining the French boy up and down.

He wore his finest clothes and washed his face three times to work out the dirt from his cheeks, but his brown locks were still tangled, still messy—and the wrinkles under his eyes hadn't gone away. Mark gazed at Christophe across the dining room table, and it seemed that the kid didn't care what he thought of him. That's what Mark secretly liked about him; Christophe didn't give a rat's ass what anybody thought about him or his appearance or his accent, or anything.

"Who would have thought the boy who would be courting my sister was living in a hole," he joked good-naturedly.

Christophe looked up, chewing his food thoroughly. He swallowed with a stony glare.

"I like to dig," he replied with a curt nod. "Iz that all right with you, or…?"

Mrs. Cotswolds plucked a forkful of roast beef into her mouth before joining in the conversation. Rebecca looked like a miniature version of her mother, aside from the gray front hairs on the woman's head. "Oh, yes! That's right," she said. "Rebecca tells me you like to dig; that you're very handy with the shovel. I'm interested, Christophe. Do you want to become a paleontologist?"

If Christophe had a cigarette in his mouth, it would have dropped and set the table cloth aflame right about now. Too bad God couldn't work _that _out.

"… Vhat?"

"A paleontologist," said Mr. Cotswolds, sniffing abruptly, "is a type of scientist who studies dinosaur fossils."

"… Oh," said Christophe in realization, shaking his head. "No."

Rebecca's parents exchanged disappointed glances while Mark dug into his corn happily.

"Christophe would like to become a geologist when he is older," Rebecca piped up.

"Digging for minerals has become more of a hobby for moi," Christophe pointed out, shrugging his shoulders.

"… I see," was all Mr. Cotswolds said. There was no hint of enthusiasm in his voice, much to his daughter's distress.

When her parents didn't notice, Rebecca quickly reached over and gave her beau a nervous squeeze of his hand underneath the table. When Christophe gave her a grateful smile, Rebecca looked away. This was turning out to be a disaster for the both of them.

D-i-s-a-s-t-e-r.

* * *

><p>Christophe fiddled with his black necktie, untightening the garb so his throat could breathe some air. However, the motion backfired when a sobbing, frizzy-haired girl knocked into him down onto his bed on purpose, burying her tear-streaked face into his shoulder. The boy frowned. His mother just ironed that… didn't she have any decency?<p>

Sighing, he pushed his angry thoughts to the side and brought his arms around her, his rough hands massaging her waistline lovingly.

"Vhat's wrong, Poodle?" he whispered in her ear, brushing his lips across her temple. "Tell me vhat's the matter."

"_Ooooh_," Rebecca sobbed, gripping his white dinner shirt with her tiny, delicate fingertips. His hairy eyebrows furrowed when he felt teardrops splash against his chest. "My parents h—h… H-A-T-E _youuu_…"

A thick caterpillar rose. "So?"

She looked at him, her big brown eyes glazed with misty tears. Christophe studied her, rubbed a clean thumb below her chin—a ticklish spot that made her smile. But she wasn't smiling, no; she didn't put in any effort to crack a grin. The poodle girl sniffled before nuzzling his chest, hands clasped together, trembling.

"They don't approve of our relationship!"

She wailed harder.

Christophe groaned. He ran his hands over her damp, rosy cheeks and massaged them soothingly before leaning in and bringing an easygoing kiss on her lips. It was adorable how she was jittery over a little thing like this.

Rebecca jumped.

What was he doing?! He should have been suggesting something about what should have been done with their relationship, not catching her lips for a snog!

She ripped from him and came up for air, her pouty expression demanding an explanation.

The boy smirked, and kissed Rebecca's hand before giving it a reassuring pat.

"They don't? Huh. Fuck 'zem."


End file.
